


Drabbles in Seattle

by Black



Category: inFAMOUS (Video Game)
Genre: But also non canon things, Delgene, Delgenetch, Drabbles, Felsin, Mentions of blood and violence, Multi, every day life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:53:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black/pseuds/Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three conduit dorks doing everyday things, and trying to cope with both each other and the outside world surrounding them.  Small drabbles on small things; but it's those small things that mean the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Outside

**Author's Note:**

> These are just drabbles, pointless things without much plot. I just want to explore every day things for a group of broken bio-terrorists to do, and how they do things together. I am not confident in my writing at all, as a small heads up.

“Why?”

Delsin groans as Fetch crawls over his back, dropping her entire weight on him not a moment later. A small noise escape him and he wheezes, her skin just as hot as the sun above. The grass tickles his face as he drops his head, inhaling the scent of earth and dry dirt and warmth together.

She scoffs, “Why not?”

Eugene laughs, arms behind his head and eyes closed to avoid blinding himself. His glasses are tucked away in his book bag, his hoodie serving as a make shift pillow. His hip rests against Delsin’s and Fetch’s left leg is strewn over his own left.

The water laps against the rocks below and the Akomish are cooking in the house behind them; the smells waft into the summer air and Delsin’s stomach growls when he catches it in the wind. “Where do we sleep tonight?” Eugene asks, and Delsin shrugs beneath Fetch’s weight.

“Outside,” Fetch states, rolling over on Delsin’s back and earning a pained groan from the man below her, “Have you ever slept outside? I mean, up here is probably better than sleepin’ outside in the city but it feels so nice.” She stretches her arm across Eugene’s chest and groans, arching her back and sighing as it cracks.

Delsin pushes himself up, and Fetch off. He settles back down next to Eugene and smiles when she smacks his side in protest, a scowl on her lips. “Sure,” he mummers, opening his eyes and looking to the factory billboard (the memorial) across the way, “Outside.”

Fetch cheers, and Eugene smiles.  
And Delsin’s smile breaks into a grin.


	2. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would think that Eugene's place is cold right

Delsin grumbles sleepily as Fetch shoves into bed between he and Eugene. The blanket rides up his legs, and the cold air of Eugene’s…..”domain” (basement? he questions) bites at exposed skin.

"Fetch," he complains, not even bothering to open his eyes as he slightly lifts his head, "Fix the blanket."

Scoffing, she playfully slaps his bare leg, pulls the blanket down, and mutters “yeah, yeah, just stop your bitchin’.” Eugene laughs softly in his throat before quieting down again as Fetch takes her place. 

Breathing through his nose, Delsin drops his head and buries his face back into the pillow. 

And all is peaceful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	3. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of just typed up without thinking or stopping to think  
> Things are hard to understand when you haven't experienced them

“Delsin,” Fetch bites, pushing his hands away from Eugene's shoulders, “Delsin, stop.”

Delsin does as he's told, holding his hands up and narrowing his eyes some. He feels defensive. Tired. Why can't he help? “Breathe,” Fetch says as she cups Eugene's cheeks, “It's just us, Eugene. Remember? We're free.” 

And the other seems to melt in her touch, and there's a connection between them that Delsin can't understand. He's been in their minds. He's seen what they've went through.

But.  
But.  
 _We're free._  
He pales, thinking of the memories again and how he can't relate.  
And he understands (at least somewhat) that he can never understand.

“Sorry,” he says, a little too loudly, “I'm gonna go...paint.” And it's a shoddy excuse but he leaves anyways, climbs up and into the city, closing the door to Eugene's domain behind him. 

He reaches up and pulls the neon from the shop's sign, shaking his arms a bit to rid them of the tension before he runs. And runs. Up the building, and to the top. And he jumps, feet forward. Halfway through, he extends his hands and hovers, propelling himself forward and taking refuge in the hypnotic hum.

His feet hit the top of the building and he rolls, jumping as his name surfaces from the crowd below. Delsin looks over the ledge, and a group of young people are outstretching their hands towards him, all smiles and happiness. “I want to have your children!” One yells, and Delsin laughs, holding his hands in front of his chest. 

“You're too young!” He yells back, and the girl laughs knowing it's in jest. One of the guys in the group smiles up at him, and Delsin smiles back.

He speaks up after a moments hesitation, “You saved me from Curdun Cay.”

Delsin's smile drops. And, so does he. Right next to the crowd. “Really?” He questions, “I did?” There had been so many people there. He hadn't even recognized the kid; but he's got bright eyes, they're so young and bright and _alive_. 

One of the other girls presses into his side, and he nods excitedly. “I never got to say thank you, I...I was too excited to leave!” And Delsin laughs, the dread that had filled him a moment ago now replaced with something light, something airy. 

He poses for pictures with the group. He talks to them. They buy him coffee and compliment his art, pointing out how it gave them strength in a time of fear. He gets giddy over it, and talks about his artistic vision, even if they don't really care and are just trying to make conversation. Others that had originally hung back now surge forward, and now all of a sudden he's getting hugged, high-fived, and talked to. 

“You're our Hero,” a young woman says, an even younger child clinging to her hip, “You saved Seattle.”

Delsin bites the inside of his cheek.  
Hero?  
“I had help,” he admits, “I didn't do it alone.”  
They talk over him, and his revelation is lost upon nearly all of them.  
But the boy from Curdun Cay smiles...

When he returns to Eugene's domain later, Fetch is stretched across the bed and Eugene is absorbed in his game. Delsin drops in, not even bothering to make an announcement, bags of takeout hanging from his forearms. Fetch rolls her head and looks at him, opens her mouth to say something, but Delsin beats her to it, “I'm sorry.”

Eugene turns to look at him, and Fetch sits up.

“Will food work as an apology?” 

For Fetch, apparently.  
Pink engulfs him and he's one bag lighter. Her lips are upon his neck, and then gone again. She situates herself at their makeshift table and opens her box. “Shit D, you know me well.”

Now Eugene is a different story, he always has been.  
 _“Don't hurt me Delsin!”_  
The words from their first face-to-face still ring in his head, still bothers him.  
Bothers the hell out of him.

Delsin doesn't even bother with words and instead closes the distance between them, setting the bags aside and wrapping his arms around the other tightly. Eugene tenses up, but Delsin pushes the hoodie from his head and presses a chaste kiss to the side of his temple. He slumps in Delsin's arms, a heavy sigh escaping him. Relief? Giving in? “That easy? I mean, I know I'm devilishly handsome and all but I expected more of a fight, you stud.”

Fetch snorts loudly.

“I know you were just trying to help,” Eugene says, ignoring his self flattery, taking the bag that Delsin offers to him when he pulls away from the hug, “Thanks Delsin. I mean it...” He pauses, “I'm sorry I freaked out earlier...”

“Naah, no apologies.”  
Delsin ruffles his hair and takes a seat next to Fetch, pulling his beanie off and tossing it aside in a pile of clothes near the bed, “Just eat, hope it's what you like. I only know what Fetch likes because we've gone out to the place before.”

She laughs, “Chinese makes the best after sex food.”

At this, Del's cheeks are red and Eugene is shaking his head, muttering something about _riding the rocket sled_ with a smile before opening up his bag and digging into his food. All is airy and light, and all is right. Laughter hangs in the air between them and Delsin talks of crowds and Curdun Cay, and of the boy _they_ saved....


	4. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Delsin and Eugene talk of leaving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what i'm doing anything or why i'm doing it, i just know i'm doing it  
> sometimes it's hard for me to get characters and i apologize if they're OOC working on that

“I want to leave Seattle sometimes.”  
Delsin says, looking over at Eugene and then back at the Space Needle. When he sees it, he thinks of Reggie, and there's this ache in his chest that makes him want to run, and to never look back. (He knows this isn't an option, though. He still has work here to do).  
Their legs dangle over the side of the building, heels digging into the crumbling brick. 

Eugene nods, understanding. There's no need to ask why.   
The only question is, “Why haven't you already?”

Scoffing, Desin places his hands on his hips and gives him a playfully offended look, “If I leave, who's gonna bring you food when you've been stuck on your game for hours?” 

“Fetch,” Eugene says, and can only laugh at the unamused look that writes itself across Delsin's face, “Okay, okay. But Delsin I can take care of myself. I can understand if you want to leave.”

Humming in his throat, Delsin stands and brushes the concrete dust from the back of his jeans. “I'll remember that Stud,” he says, walking over to the satellite to their right and wrapping his hands around the small TV there. He drains the video from it and closes his eyes, sighing out shakily as it's pulled into him, and Eugene watches as his jaw clenches and his shoulders tense with the action. He turns back around once finished, looking excited and exhausted all at once; “But for now, we have DUPs to take care of, right?"

Delsin offers his hand.  
And Eugene takes it with a sincere smile.


	5. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast can wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept thinking the Longhouse was called the smokehouse and i kept laughing/kicking myself for writing that  
> (THANKS FOR THE KUDOS BY THE WAY i'm so happy)
> 
> Also: I know Betty is partial to "bio-terrorists" when the game starts but I guess this can be further on when Delsin's like "nah man these are my friends" and she's okay with them now at least

“Will you wake Delsin? Breakfast is almost ready.”

Betty nods to the older man, shuffling back through the Longhouse towards the far right door. She'll wake Delsin, and then he can wake his friends. She is unfamiliar with them. And it's not that they make her uncomfortable, it's the fact that she...doesn't really know them well enough to intrude on them. 

Respect, in short.

She knocks on his door lightly and pushes it open, and whispers his name softly. She hears a groan, and shifting so she opens the door a little more and, while taken aback, she smiles. They're all shoved in the same bed together. Fully clothed, just, sleeping. Delsin beneath the other two, arms wound around them tightly (protectively?) 

The girl's eyes are open slightly.  
And she lifts her head, giving Betty a tired look.

Betty just waves, tells her that there's breakfast, and gently closes the door.

“Well?” the Elder asks, and Betty settles herself back down into her chair, “Is he coming?”

She shrugs, still smiling, “Soon.”


	6. Video Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Delsin blows at video games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Delgene than anything.

"Dammit," Delsin hisses as he throws the controller down next to him on the bed, "How the hell do you do that?"  
Laughing, Eugene shovels a handful of chips in his mouth. He swallows before responding, “Years of practice.” Usually, the comment would have made Eugene sad. It would have usually brought him back to memories of high school. Safety in his game. Bullies. Being shoved in lockers. Discovering his powers…

But the way Delsin turns his lips into a pout washes all the bad away. If Fetch was here she’d tease him, but Eugene only rests his head against Delsin’s outer thigh. “You’ll get the hang of it,” he says, reaching back to look at him and nudge the controller back towards him, “Come on, I like adventuring with you.”

Delsin hesitates before picking it up and sighing out a long, “okay.” Eugene laughs in his throat and grabs another handful of chips, the bed frame digging uncomfortably into his back, but the warmth of his companion outweighs his willingness to move.


	7. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delsin remembers Fetch has lost someone too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first thing I wrote for the fandom.

“Hey D, Mind tellin’ a girl when you’re going to do this, whole quiet and shit thing?”  
Fetch’s voice sings songs as she sits next to him, airy and light like the times Reggie actually gave him smiles. Reggie. Delsin’s shoulders slump, and the rubber soles of his shoes dig into the rotting brick of the building. They sit at the edge; the building is tall and he’s feeling heavy. Heavy enough that he thinks that if he drops, the impact might be just enough to hurt.

Delsin lifts his head, “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

He doesn’t have to look to know that Fetch is frowning. “Listen, I’m uh, sorry about your brother…” Though she stops short when Delsin waves his hand, and he’s glad she takes the hint. Reggie. Reggie. Tears prick his eyes, unlike the red hot anger that surged down his throat and into his stomach when Augustine’s eyes bore into his own, as if she _was proud of herself for_ …

“It’s okay.”

But it’s not, and they both know it. “Delsin…” she starts, standing as she watching him shift ever so slightly closer to the edge, “Come on.” When she grabs his hand, he lets her pull him up and away from the ledge. And when she wraps her arms around him, Delsin remembers that Fetch had nobody when her brother died. And that’s when Delsin remembers that Fetch….Fetch also lost her brother. “Come home with me.”

Fetch doesn’t even wait for an answer.

He watches as she dashes from the roof top, pink neon swirling aggressively as she runs. Fetch stops at the next rooftop and beckons, jumping a bit and waving her arms expectantly. Video buzzes from the satellite to the right, and he pulls from it, teeth chattering and jaw clenching as it fills his very core.

He jumps, cold air biting at his eyes as he falls.

Delsin considers living in this moment.

Is this how Reggie felt?

But it’s not, because within a moment he’s shooting upwards on digital wings that crackle in the air. Fetch is smiling (sadly) and Delsin is landing next to her, stumbling for a moment before regaining his footing. “Come on Smokes,” she teases before taking off one more, and Delsin considers that maybe, just maybe, he can find comfort in her smile and solace in making something of himself.

“For Reggie,” he whispers as he jumps from the ledge, wings humming loudly as he outstretches his arms and lets the wind take him to new beginnings.


	8. Exclude [nsfw-ish?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eugene feels left out
> 
> Uh, Delgene with Fetch thrown in  
> Sometimes I write random cute things and then I write boys being cute and then I write all three being dumb and cute and I'm sorry if you don't like Delgene/Fetch you can skip over this one
> 
> shrugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos: 9   
> Bookmarks: 2
> 
> HOLLERS THANK YOU by the way i love you guys

Eugene is nervous.  
He's nervous at the way that Fetch grabs for Delsin's hand, at the way that Delsin pushes her hair behind her ear, the way their eyes meet when they think nobody’s watching, and the way her hand rests against his thigh when she's trying to get his attention (and damn does he look quick). 

It's only been a week since Augustine was defeated.  
And.  
And.  
He feels just as trapped as ever.   
Just as awkward.  
As tired.  
As antisocial.

Delsin and Fetch are loud, racing around the city leaving trails of neon in their wake. Their eyes are bright, wild, and wide; the very definition of love (he thinks) and it's when he starts to distance himself, and they don't seem to notice, that he feels worse.

It escalates the day that Delsin drops into his domain, and beckons him to come out. “Come to lunch with me,” he says, nearly demands, and Eugene just waves him off.

“I'm busy,” he responds, and he can _feel_ Delsin scowl. A hand touches his shoulder and he ducks out of reach, giving him a wary look, “I said I'm busy.”

A sigh, and Delsin leaves without another word, looking just a little bothered. And the more Eugene sits and thinks about it, the worse he feels. Shit. Delsin was just trying to be nice. And it was just going to be them at lunch, it sounded like. He mentally kicks himself, and stares angrily at his screen. About thirty minutes pass, and he swallows hard as he's calling Delsin's phone.

And it rings.  
Rings.  
Rings.  
Voicemail.  
“ _Hey, this is Delsin..._ ”

He hangs up.  
And repeats this for the next hour or so.  
His stomach knots up as time passes (he cannot let this fester), and he decides to try and find him. Maybe he's at the cozy little apartment he recently rented in the city, doing...something, anything, except being mad at him. Eugene hopes he isn't mad. “Please don't be mad,” he breathes out as he walks, pulling the scarf tighter against his face to hide himself. Sure, it was easier now to go out, but...but...people were still hard to trust.

It takes him while to get there. It's across the bridge, in the other part of the city, so he dashes into the satellite to get across the bridge, only earning a few looks from the people nearby. His feet hit the ground and he calms down his racing heart before continuing on.

But, it starts fluttering in his chest again as soon as he reaches Delsin's place. And it starts hammering when the elevator opens, and he gets in, pressing the button to the 3rd floor. It's in his throat by the time he's knocking on Delsin's door, and he can only shift his weight from foot to foot while he waits. “Delsin?” he calls after a few moments, hearing shifting and hushed whispers through the metal of the door, his heart sinking back down into it's place even after Delsin opens it and gives him a surprised look.

“Eugene,” he says, a bit breathless, and he looks disheveled. His signature beanie is gone, and his hair is mussed. It sticks out in different directions, and he hasn't even bothered to fix it. A button down shirt is thrown on haphazardly, open and clinging loosely to his body, as if that's the closest piece of clothing he could grab. His eyes are wide and neck and cheeks are red; Fetch peeks out from behind him and waves, smiling as if it was nothing. But it's something, and Eugene clenches his jaw as he turns from the door and storms towards the stairwell. “Hey, hey!” Delsin calls after a moment, but Eugene is already through the door and pushing it closed behind him. He bites his cheek, leans against the wall, and sighs shakily. 

It's stupid, he figures.  
Feeling so jealous and stupid and isolated.  
His eyes burn with tears and he tries to hold it back. All he wants is to be with them, to fit in. But he's not like them (personality wise, at least) and that _hurts_.

He doesn't have much time alone to dwell because Delsin is all smoke and fire as he phases through the door, body reformulating with loud whisper and a sudden crackle. “I said hey,” he narrows his eyes, pointing at Eugene, “you ran away from me saying hey, meaning hey don't run away.”

Eugene can't meet his eyes and he doesn't laugh, so Delsin drops the act. “Hey,” he whispers, “Hey Eugene, what's wrong?” Delsin moves towards him and Eugene flinches, but it doesn't stop the other from closing the space between them. They're chest to chest, and Eugene is so fucking scared and upset that in some part of his mind, he's ready to call upon his angels to come take him away. Back to his own place. Safety. Safe.

Frowning, Delsin reaches up and cups his cheeks with both hands. “You've been distant,” Delsin says, “I've just been worried, you know? Ever since we took down Augustine I haven't seen you much...” Eugene swallows.

“I can't compete with Fetch,” he whispers, words nearly muffled by the scarf, looking to the ground...but Delsin ducks just enough to Eugene is forced to look at only him.

And, the other looks confused. “What?” he whispers, “Wait, as friends?” And when there's no denial or conformation, Delsin suddenly gets it. “Oh, oh. _Oh_. Eugene, oh. Oh no, please don't think like that,” He whispers, pulling the scarf down from over his mouth, “Hey, no don't look so upset, please? It's not like that. It's not.”

“Then what is it?” He hates how weak he sounds.

Delsin sighs, “Eugene...we're not trying to uh, exclude you.” He bites his cheek, “I invited you out to lunch today for a reason man. I've been worried, and uh.” Words are failing the both of them, and Eugene can only stare as Delsin spits out word after word without making any sort of sense. So he just slides his arms around the other and hugs him, tightly, taking the moment to press his cheek into Delsin's chest and drink in the warmth of him. He smells like smoke and sweat; his skin is tacky and gross but Eugene doesn't care, all he wants to do is stay right here. 

Words rumble in Delsin's chest and he stops talking, and instead wraps his arms back around Eugene. Though when the echo of an opening door falls upon them, Delsin quickly pulls away and looks up the stairwell. “Come on,” he beckons, and opens the door to his own floor, “We can talk more in private.”

And Eugene nods. Shuffling through the door with red cheeks as Delsin follows quickly behind him. They walk side by side, Delsin hovering closer than usually and Eugene nearly pressed into his side. He's nervous to face Fetch. She's a...a....rocket sled, as Delsin once described her. She's bright and loud and....and....

Delsin opens his door and lets Eugene in first, himself second, and closes the door behind him. It clicks as he locks it, and Fetch looks up at them both from the couch. “Ah, hey D. And look who else decided to come in.” And Eugene's first reaction is to be defensive, but Delsin rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Fetch, Eugene thinks we're excluding him.”

Her first reaction is to scoff and smile, but when Delsin doesn't laugh, Fetch drops it. “What?” she says, “Well, that was the exact opposite of the plan...” And Eugene doesn't budge when she stands, only in a bra, and walks over to drape her arms across his shoulders. A frown twists her lips, “Why would we exclude you?”

Delsin pulls Eugene's hood off and untangles the scarf from his neck, tossing it on the kitchen table (One of those stupid black foldout table, not an actual _nice_ kitchen table, Eugene notices) before wrapping his arms around him tightly. “That's not important. What is important, is that we want to include you....in this weird conduit thing we have going on. Are you okay with that Stud?”

“I uh...” Eugene stammers, all tension and anger leaving him as soon as Delsin's teeth find his neck and Fetch presses her forehead to his own, “I....”

She smiles sweetly, so unlike Fetch, “will you stay?” 

The way Delsin's hands slide beneath his shirt and up his chest draw only a sigh as his answer, and Fetch smiles, moving the hair from his face. “Good,” she mutters as she presses a chaste kiss to his chin, “I'm glad. No more of this avoidin' us shit, got that?”

Eugene nods.  
And he stays.


	9. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Delsin and Fetch talk of Reggie and find comfort in cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one kind of hurt.  
> Ouch.  
> Delsin's a big softy in this one but that's kind of the point
> 
> By the way 14 kudos and im screaming THANK YOU

Sometimes Fetch can see Delsin physically falter.  
His shoulders slump and his throat tightens; his whole form sags with everything the world has placed upon his shoulders. She has a feeling that Reggie once helped hold some of that weight.

It's 3am and he thinks she's not awake but she is and she's watching. She watches him walk over to the window and open it, open the screen, and situation himself on the windowsill. The moon casts a soft and silver glow on him, and he heaves a heavy sigh. Sometimes he's all hero, all smoke and smiles as he pulls his fist back and socks a DUP in the face. He's all laughter as he grabs Fetch's shoulders and grins, exclaiming (much like a child) about how “cool that was!” 

But right now, right now...  
“Dels,” she whispers, sliding from the bed and earning his attention, “What's up?”  
And he rubs at his eyes, dipping his head down into his hands.

“Nothing. Sorry, did I wake you?”

But she forces his hands away and the tears are there, not yet fallen, but his eyes are red and glossy in the moonlight. Fetch swallows hard before twining her arms around his neck, and running fingers through his hair. “Inside,” she softly demands, and he does. He slips off the windowsill back inside, and makes a small sound as he wraps his arms tightly around her waist. He's tall and strong enough to lift her off the ground, and she feels completely swallowed by the entirety of him. 

“Abigail,” His voice shakes against her neck, “I lost him in a dream, all over again.”

Fetch frowns, rakes her fingers through his hair in a slow melodic motion, and presses a kiss to the top of his head. He's still mourning. He never got the chance to properly mourn. He had to watch all three of them (Reggie, she, and Eugene) plummet into the ocean, encased in concrete, knowing one had no hope of escape. She and Eugene at least had some chance of survival...

“Shh, Del. It's okay,” and his little noises of _trying_ to be okay break her heart, he's trying so hard to hold everything back. To be the hero that everybody expects him to be. “You wanna go back to bed?”

He shakes his head no, unable to form words. And she hums softly, resting her cheek against the top of his head, “you hungry? Want to actually use the kitchen for somethin'?” She can feel his smile and nod, and he sets her down gently. Fetch leans up and with the pads of her thumbs, wipes the remaining tears from his eyes. “I'm feelin' like Coffee and somethin' sweet.”

And within the hour, the kitchen is torn apart and they've somehow managed to throw together cookies with some recipe online. Delsin tears into them right when the come out of the oven and burns his fingers with molten chocolate, but he doesn't care and neither does Fetch.

They don't even wait to move them off the baking sheet; they're sitting on the counter with the sheet between them, just picking off the hot cookies one by one. Delsin whines as he burns his tongue on both hot cookies and coffee, but Fetch just laughs because he just keeps eating.

“You know, for the tough guy that Reggie acted like....he made some damn good food.” Delsin says, something nostalgic and painful settling into his face, “He'd make cookies, or something, and we'd sit and just talk. Or, he'd leave them for me when he would go to work really late. I'd have them in the morning. It was nice, you know?”

Fetch smiles, but doesn't say anything.  
So Delsin talks to fill the silence, because the silence weighs heavy in the air and it's too much for him. He talks. She joins in eventually. And they talk until morning, and he falls asleep on the couch. Fetch joins him, curled between his legs, head on his chest, tangled in his arms..

\- - - - x - - - - 

When Eugene finds Delsin a week later crying over a tray of cookies in the kitchen, he doesn't understand. So Fetch made cookies, big deal?

He doesn't ask, figuring it's better left unsaid.  
But the grin on Delsin's face is as bright as the sun when he reads the card next to the platter, and Eugene can just barely make the pink writing out.

“ _Have a good mornin Dels, I'll see you soon :)  
-Fetch_.”


	10. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Delsin complains about blowing hardcore at video games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have something small.  
> Sorry guys, been working on final essays for school and stuff :C

"I give up!"  
Delsin throws the controller, earning a strange look from Fetch. “I don’t know how he does this,” Delsin exclaims, “Holy hell. This game is so frustrating. First you level up, and you die. Then you level up, and you die. Then you level up some more and say hey, i think i can do this, and then you _die_.”  
He spins in the chair to face her.  


"Fetch," He begans, pointing to the computer, "What. the. fuck?"  


She bites her lip to keep from grinning and hides her face against her knees, snorting back her laughter. All he does is groan and take out his phone, sending a text to Eugene something along the lines of “ _Share your secrets with me you nerd how do you not die in the game holy shit_ " before crossing his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at Fetch’s laughter.


	11. Concrete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Delsin tries to decide who (or what) really ended Reggie
> 
> Warnings for: Blood, talk of breaking bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And have some sad Delsin  
> I'm working on something else I promise

His fist connects with a DUP head, and the follow through is sickeningly sweet. The crack makes his skin itch and the blood that follows almost excites him; his feet skid as the weight of the concrete pulls him forward, and when he rights himself, the other DUPs drop their guns in surrender.

Delsin scoffs. 

Subduing them is easy and takes a few minutes at most. The bloodied concrete drops from his hands as he withdraws the essence back into himself, he watches it hit the ground and looks to it’s now deceased owner. There’s a twinge of guilt that lives in him, but, but, they’re ruthless and _he’s protecting people so_ … 

But still, concrete hits the hardest by far. It cracks helmets, bones, limbs, anything he wants (if he hits hard enough). Smoke, Neon, Video….it’s no wonder they picked concrete for the DUP. Why they picked Augustine. It hits hard, and the people of Seattle still run when they see him using it. Their beloved Delsin Rowe. Using something they once thought safe, something they once thought to protect them. Then they saw the real DUP, and they’re afraid. He doesn’t blame them. Tightening the muscles in his arms, draws from the very core of him and uses the concrete to propel upwards. It encases his arms and pebbles encircle them; he boosts once, and boosts twice, taking his place on top of a nearby building. Delsin looks to the ocean, and frowns. 

Concrete killed his brother.  
His arms feel heavy.  
Heavy.  
Even without concrete there.  
 _No, no Augustine killed your brother._

But he still pulls from the neon sign anyways. The pink reminds him of Fetch, and he’d rather think of Fetch than nasty ol’ Augustine. Speaking of Fetch, he should probably check up on her. Yeah. Yeah, he should. So he does, fizzling into a disembodied pink and jumping to the next building, leaving the blood and the concrete behind for lighter things…


	12. Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Delsin calls Reggie  
> *Spoilers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry

On the top of the tallest building, Delsin dials Reggie’s number.

It rings, and rings, and rings.  
And his eyes burn, because it just keeps ringing.  
ringing.  
ringing.

“ _Hey, it’s Reggie…_ ”

He pulls the phone away from his ear, sniffling and wiping at the tears because the voice makes his chest tight and he’s not ready yet. He’s not. But when he can hear the beep, he lifts it back up.

Delsin hesitates; “H-Hey…”

And suddenly he doesn’t know what to say, the words leave him and his mouth goes dry. His throat tightens. “I miss you,” is what he finally spits out, and the words tumble roughly from his lips, “I miss you, god dammit I miss you.” 

He repeats it like a mantra, curling up on himself and squeezing his eyes shut. “You were right, you were always right please, please come back and arrest me over and over and over again. I spray painted that damn billboard again and, I miss you, please, I miss you.”

The beep cuts him short and he squeezes the phone, watching as it hangs up on it’s own. Delsin stares at Reggie’s caller ID picture and bites his lip, locking the phone and pocketing it. 

He buries his face in his hands, and pulls in choppy breaths…


	13. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which fast healing is bullshit if you don't keep stocked on power  
> *Blood  
> *Breaking Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here have some beaten up Delsin  
> I have something longer that I'm working on that I'll post soon  
> I must be doing something right because of people giving me kudos so thank you I really appreciate that because I am really anxious about posting my works online, baha.

Fast healing or not, the fist that connects with Delin’s cheek both draws blood and hurts.

The concrete scrapes off skin and cracks bone; the blood bubbles in his mouth and down his lower lip. The bone is taken care of almost immediately; his body isn’t going to let anything break him, but maim him, maybe. Because there’s not one, but two DUP over him now, and he can’t find the smoke within himself to break free. 

"Shit," he manages to sputter, a concrete covered fist hitting him right in the nose. It breaks; Delsin contains his whine only because a barrage of concrete slams down right into his gut. So instead, he chokes, sputtering blood from his still bleeding gums. 

Delsin raises his hand as another fist connects with his ribs, a sulfur bomb fizzling out of the middle of it. The two men stumble back and Delsin scrambles to his feet, heading over to the slightly smoking DUP armored truck, and absorbing what he can from it.

It’s not much, but it gets his body kick started in healing a little quicker, and it also allows him to escape into one of the nearby alleyways near by. When he thinks he’s far enough, he slumps back against one of the walls and holds his bruised stomach and his bloody nose, pain radiating from them both. It trickles down his lips and jaw; he uses the white of his sleeve to try and stop it.

The DUP sirens howl down one of the streets beyond him and he wheezes, tilting his head back and sighing heavily in exhaustion, wishing he had taken Fetch or Eugene with him after all…


	14. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Delsin sees himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to toss this in here so I could update this. Uhm, this really isn't canon but shrugs. I need to put more things in here I've written i'm sorry ):
> 
> TW: For blood, breaking bones, and a gross Evil Delsin
> 
> PS: I promise to update more soon school had been killing me thx

These eyes are his own, but they're filled to the brim with things he's never seen before, and that _terrifies_ him.

“Hey,” and it's his voice, but deeper, lower, as if he's been sucking on ash and smoke and it's cracked that pretty little throat, “I've been looking for you.”

Delsin opens his mouth to speak but he's cut short because a fist (and then a wall) closes it for him. His nose cracks and it's sickening, plush red running down his lips and the taste makes his mouth fuzzy and numb. “What?” he manages to croak, shivering as the fingers shoving his beanie off and pulling his hair tight. The answer never comes, only the wall again.

This time Delsin is sure that his teeth chip and his jaw cracks.  
His cheek bone pops and that can't be good.  
And the fingers in his hair are burning through and burning his scalp.

“You were never in control,” that voice dips low, low into his soul and shakes him, living in his chest and burning, burning, _burning_ , consuming all his confidence and in the next moment it reduces him to smoke and ash as he bursts from his captor's grasp.

There's ice in his veins and there's smoke in his chest; tightening, curling, exploding. It crawls up his throat and seeps through his lips, and he's walking backwards down the ally. Because this is he. himself. His eyes and his face and his lips curled into sinister things, dark things, cheeks red and teeth bared in a snarl.

Touching the back of his head he pulled away burned hair and blood and it's running hot down his neck and his healing is slow to work, to knit back together the pieces of himself that he's broken. “How?” He's asking, chest aching as he's backed into a corner, the brick of the wall digging grit into his wounds.

Thing this, this him.  
It's not even him.  
It's monstrous with it's sunken eyes and sagging hoodie, all red and ratty with blood and broken seams. Bruised skin upon bruised skin upon broken skin and dried blood and cracked fingers and when they touch his face a small noise leaves his lips.

“This is my town now,” it says and Delsin doesn't stay to listen because he's through the smoke vent behind him and running now, scratching at his skin and telling himself to _wake up wake up wakeupwakeupwakeup_ but all he leaves are long red marks that pucker angrily and he's tripping over his own two feet.

He's pulling his phone from his pocket and calling Fetch.  
No answer.  
Calling Eugene.  
“ _Hey Delsin --_ ”

And there's hands on his shoulders.  
And ice cold dread in his chest.

“Help--”

Is all he can manage to sputter before the phone is ripped from his hands and tossed aside, the metal moving against the rooftop with a teeth grinding scrape. Eugene's panicked voice disappears as it slides over the edge, and Delsin can only stare into sick eyes, red cheeks, and a smoke filled smile that's going to consume every part of him whole.

“...and you have _no_ place here.”


	15. Control II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Delsin isn't Delsin  
> *Blood  
> *Gross stuff like Phlegm  
> *Sick Infamous!Delsin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will have a third part soon.
> 
> By the way holy hell im crying at all the bookmarks and kudos and stuff thank you it really REALLy means a lot omg

Delsin's scream chills him to the bone.  
The line goes dead.  
And he's left standing in front of his computer, phone in hand, heart racing. 

He pauses for a moment, before trying to call Delsin back.  
It rings, and rings, and rings, and voicemail.  
So he calls Fetch, stomach churning, feeling sick. 

“ _Eugene_?”

And the first words out at his mouth are, “Delsin called me, he's in trouble.” Silence washes over them both, and he mutters an, “I need you.” He's freaked out, “Please. Fetch.”

“ _I'll be there in five_ ,” she hangs up, and Eugene gets to work on trying to trace a signal. His hands are shaking so hard that he can barely type; they stab at the wrong letters and he has to bite hard into his cheek to keep calm. He jumps when his computer makes a noise, and he's picking up on Delsin's signal, thank god. Its nearby, close, but that means whatever attacked him is close as well.

...He's never heard Delsin scream like that before.  
It makes him ill, makes him sick. This is the man he looks up to, respects, borderline worships, and something or someone had reduced him into calling Eugene for help...

The grate to his domain swings open and his heart flutters in relief. Though, that was a lot shorter than the five minutes she had promised. Maybe two? But Fetch was here and he wasn't alone in this. “Fetch,” he calls and walks over to the entrance, nearly tripping when sick eyes catch within his own and make his stomach drop. “Delsin?” Calling this thing Delsin though feels wrong, and the name rolls heavy and thick from his mouth.

Even in the little light that the grates let in, he can see the red that spatters bruised hands. 

“Eugene,” it says, mouth twisted into a grin, “It's good to see you.”

He doesn't know what to say to it. It takes a step. He steps back. It coughs, covering its mouth with the bloodied sleeve of it's hoodie. It's chest rattles, and it turns its head away, spitting something nasty on the floor. When it looks back to face him, Eugene is already gone, retreating back deep into his domain.

This thing isn't Delsin.  
It's the shell of somebody with the same face, nothing more.  
Something sick, bloody, and sinister.

And, oh god, it's following him.

“Eugene,” and it's voice is low and deep, phlegm thick as it talks, “Come out.”

It stalks by his computers, pausing to look at the screen before laughing, hollow and empty, using the whole of its arms to knock everything to the floor beneath him. Eugene's eyes water as most of his monitors crack, and those that don't, it makes sure that they do. “ _Come out _,” it urges again, coughing, cut short by the sound of the grate opening and Fetch's voice echoing through his domain.__

__“Eugene?”_ _

__It grins, kicking a monitor as it starts towards her.  
But it makes a growling noise as Eugene shoulders past on video wings, stumbling over and wrapping his arms around her immediately. “We have to go,” he says urgently, “we have to go. It's going to kill us.”_ _

__Fetch gives him a look, and wraps an arm around him in what, he guesses, is an attempt to humor him. “What are you going on about?” She asks, “Where is Smokes?”_ _

__“Here,” And when Fetch looks up she tenses, Eugene can feel her tense, and he doesn't even give her warning before using his wings to propel them both upwards and through the loose grate. The landing is a bit rough but Fetch gets it, and follows him as he runs._ _

__They turn the corner and Eugene banks hard down an ally, pulling her there with him. “What was that?” Fetch's voice dips below a whisper and Eugene is shaking, shaking, his hands tremble and he's leaning over to touch his knees with a soft whine, “that wasn't Delsin.”_ _

__“I know,” he says soft, below his breath, before pushing himself back up, “He..he called me earlier, asked for help and,” Eugene hesitates, “I heard a scream and the line went dead.”_ _

__Fetch's face pales, “What?”_ _

__Silence settles over them both for a minute and Fetch pulls out her phone, eyes widening as she realizes she had missed his call earlier. She spits curses to herself, punching the brick with her fist and biting the inside of her cheek hard. “Listen,” he touches her arm, pointing behind him, “I got a reading of his last call a little bit over there.”_ _

___She just stares.  
And her eyes ask the question he doesn't want to think about.  
He doesn't know what they'll find, but “we need to try.”_

__Nodding, Fetch follows him out of the ally and they race between buildings, silence heavy on their shoulders and festering in their veins. Eugene takes his phone out and calls Delsin's phone, hoping it still works._ _

__Please let it work._ _

__And they both flinch as it rings somewhere close, the speaker crackling with damage as Fetch fishes it out from behind a trashcan. The screen is badly cracked, flickering as Fetch touches gingerly touches it. The back is scratched. There's a distinctly bloody hand print smeared across the screen from whoever was holding it last; Fetch looks up, and Eugene does as well..._ _


	16. Control III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Delsin is kind of almost screwed  
> *Blood  
> *Impaling  
> *Stuff like this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied there will be four parts.  
> I also have to post some sort stuff here later. I'm still considering these small evil!Delsin parts, like, drabbles.
> 
> Also I'm dying at the likes and views of this I hope I'm still doING OKAY

There's only one time Fetch has seen so much red.  
And it was when she shot Brent straight through the chest.

When she and Eugene get to the top of the building and find him, she thinks he's dead. How could he not be? “Delsin,” Eugene sputters next to her, his voice cracking right down the middle and Fetch is the first one to approach him.

She doesn't even know where to start.  
His white hoodie isn't white anymore.  
Smoke burns lick both his skin and the roof top around him.  
He fought, god he fought.

“Hey Smokes,” she tries, soft, gentle as she leans down next to him, letting a small noise leave her when he actually opens his eyes. Her fingers touch his cheeks, tacky with blood, and he flinches at first but closes his eyes again, leaning into her touch. “Eugene, he's alive.”

The other slowly approaches and joins her side, biting his lower lip hard enough that she swears he's going to break skin. Delsin's healing powers have been working, slowly, very slowly. Fetch can physically see his body closing small cuts, and working on knitting back together the larger wounds. He probably looked worse before they got here, and she's thankful that didn't see that Delsin. 

Shifting, he groans and his hands fly up to clutch the short metal pole impaled straight through his stomach, the red fluttering angrily from the wound. “Help?” He opens his eyes and rolls his head to look at them, flinching as a wave of pain rolls over him. Eugene is the first to stand, Fetch following soon after and they both grab the pole, jerking up upwards and jumping as Delsin lets out a whine when it doesn't budge.

“Just hold on D,” she says as calmly as she can, nodding at Eugene and then pulling again, shivering as it slides out of his gut with a wet noise. As soon as it's tossed aside, clattering across the rooftop, Delsin rolls on his side and lets loose a long groan, and Fetch is afraid they've just killed him. “Smokes,” she coos softly as she leans down and rolls him back over, looking around to double check that It isn't here before gathering neon in the palm of her hand and pressing it against the wound in his stomach, “It'll be okay.”

He shudders at first but relaxes under her touch, eyes fluttering open to look at Eugene first and then to Fetch. The warmth of her power floods him, and she can tell it's helping because his nose looks a little less broken and his jaw a little less awkward. “You have to go,” he wheezes, the blood still sticking thick to his lips and teeth, “He's-”

“We know,” Eugene says, and Delsin can only give him a raspy sigh. His chest rattles and Fetch focuses more neon on him, watching as the wound in his stomach starts to seal itself shut. Their friend definitely looks a lot better and he's starting to respond much more, but she wants to move them. This is too open. Much too open. They're too exposed. It's only a matter of time before it finds them, and they need Delsin up and active.

She moves the hair from his face, “How ya feelin' D?”

“Better,” he slowly sits up, and then surprises her by climbing to his feet. Fetch slides herself under his arm to give him a bit of sturdiness, and he nods appreciatively, “Where to?”

Fetch and Eugene look at him, and then at one another.  
Both kicking themselves for not thinking _that_ far ahead.


End file.
